Preview — The Maimed by Hermann Ungar

The Maimed

Set in Prague, The Maimed relates the story of a highly neurotic, socially inept bank clerk who is eventually impelled by his widowed landlady into servicing her sexual appetites. At the same time he must witness the steady physical and mental deterioration of his lifelong friend who is suffering from an unnamed disease. Part psychological farce, Ungar tells a dark, ironicSet in Prague, The Maimed relates the story of a highly neurotic, socially inept bank clerk who is eventually impelled by his widowed landlady into servicing her sexual appetites. At the same time he must witness the steady physical and mental deterioration of his lifelong friend who is suffering from an unnamed disease. Part psychological farce, Ungar tells a dark, ironic tale of chaos overtaking one's meticulously ordered life.

One of only two novels Ungar wrote, this translation marks the first time this important novel and any of his work has been translated into English. Ungar's novellas and short stories are collected in Boys & Murderers....more

Paperback, 220 pages

Published
April 1st 2002
by Twisted Spoon Press
(first published 1922)

Community Reviews

I don't know if anyone else on goodreads is a fan of Canadian sketch comedy show Kids in the Hall? If you were this would be the easiest review ever to write. My favorite Kid, Bruce McCulloch, wrote and starred in some bits that I consider to be inspired. He has a dark and twisted mind that I adore. It could have gone anywhere and those guys let them go in all these different places in those years. Anyway, I love the "Huh" feeling at the end and all uncomfortable laughter in the dark. The kids wI don't know if anyone else on goodreads is a fan of Canadian sketch comedy show Kids in the Hall? If you were this would be the easiest review ever to write. My favorite Kid, Bruce McCulloch, wrote and starred in some bits that I consider to be inspired. He has a dark and twisted mind that I adore. It could have gone anywhere and those guys let them go in all these different places in those years. Anyway, I love the "Huh" feeling at the end and all uncomfortable laughter in the dark. The kids would dress up as women and they had this great sexless thing going on. Because they weren't really women they were a distorted idea of women (best of all was when they'd transcend that. I particularly like Dave Foley in this skit). There was another side of Bruce too. I remember coming home from work as a teenager to watch reruns on Comedy Central during my lunch breaks. It was a bad day if it was the "Bar fight" episodes. "Oh, fuck. Bar fight again. This thing goes on forever and ever!" I would sit there and watch Bar Fight and wish it would end already because I didn't feel like it could go anywhere. (I guess they could take it inside or outside, like men or women.) Hermann Ungar's The Maimed is like that. It starts out with me feeling at home in this deeply paranoid mind. Ungar has chairs to sit in and watch the wallpaper fade. I bet I would know every crack in that ceiling given enough time. The paintings would have eyes that seem to follow your every move. Polzer is twisted up inside to where he's sexless because he doesn't leave that room for anyone else. He doesn't touch himself. He doesn't even know it any better than when he first got there (too scared of the eyes). It's the kind of sexless that thinks about sex all of the time (and missing the point). What a nightmare! The widowed landlady could have been played by a man in my mind. Predatory and not about sex either. I bet I would be able to feel the sweat on the collar. Days old perspiration. Not strong enough for a woman. But it is not the worn in feeling at home but it couldn't go anywhere (or at least would not be afraid to if it was going to go that way). Polzer meets his childhood companion, a richie Karl, when he is fat and abscessed into an early death bed. This part reminded me soooo much of a great short story in the Edogawa Rampo short story collection that I read in 2011. The story was about a wife who takes begrudging care of her impotent amputee of a husband (I'd wonder if he read The Maimed but that's gotta be one of those timeless things). I was worn down too, of the en passe. Fear is hard to sustain before it turns into something else. Like the stale odor of an old dog fart. This was like a combination of the short effects of being scared or horny and taken waaaay too long. It became being tired. Polzer never sleeps but I do. But when it was good it was good. (My favorite part was the longing that Polzer felt for the childhood kisses from Karl. How he notices that Karl's innocent son Franz looks as his father used to. The way he had to cry and look confused to get them. This guy doesn't get any love he can ask for.)

It is really too bad if no one knows what I'm talking about. That could have been the best ever comparison I've ever made on goodreads. (I'm gonna look so dumb! Everyone else probably said Kafka. Fuck!) There was a murder and someone was beaten to death. Fight! Fight!...more

At first I thought Ungar had been to see Tod Browning’s Freaks, and directly plagerised modelled ‘The Maimed’ on it. But no: he wrote it in 1923 and Freaks came out in 1932. Lynch’s Boxing Helena came out in 1993, one big massive nod to Ungar as well.

The centrefold here is a Karl, and he has Aspergers. Ungar doesn’t say so, not least because Aspergers wasn’t identified til 1944, but nevertheless, what we have here is a portrait of the artist as an Aspergers man. Like Sheldon in the Big Bang TheoAt first I thought Ungar had been to see Tod Browning’s Freaks, and directly plagerised modelled ‘The Maimed’ on it. But no: he wrote it in 1923 and Freaks came out in 1932. Lynch’s Boxing Helena came out in 1993, one big massive nod to Ungar as well.

The centrefold here is a Karl, and he has Aspergers. Ungar doesn’t say so, not least because Aspergers wasn’t identified til 1944, but nevertheless, what we have here is a portrait of the artist as an Aspergers man. Like Sheldon in the Big Bang Theory only more so. It is extremely well rendered. So meticulously laid out I began acquiring neurotic baggage as the book went along: towards the end I was a pulsing vibrating hive of all kinds of neurosis, phobias and tics.

Writing simulataneously during this period, and in German as well, was Elias Canetti, another Jewish author, crafting Kien in Auto-Da-Fe: the similarities are astonishing. Both protags are socially inept recluses who fall sexual prey to malevolent fat older women housekeepers.

What is this with the fat evil women? It doesn’t tally. Cognitive association gives us ‘jolly’ to go with ‘fat woman’, (and hag or witch goes with dried up stick thin old women).

Now the rounded woman has been a goddess associated with fertility and life since the Babylonians (at least).

I suppose if one has to become a sexual slave it might as well be to a fat woman. Or, alternatively, if one hates women (and Karl does,), then maybe on a scale of one to ten where ten is the most hideous prospect, the fat woman scores. But what do I know? I’m only semi-fat and semi-old and semi-evil so my point of reference is skewed.

So, this kooky book is about freaks. Everyone is ‘maimed’ in some way: physical or psychological. The narrative crests on a wave of building paranoia (echoes of Kraznakohai to be found ), with multiple layers of symbolism, expressionism and dreamworks in the spanner, revolving, of course, around Karl, the Aspergers sexual slave. Everything hangs together with mesmerising glue: I couldn’t put the rummy thing down. ...more

I read the Maimed two years ago, and it's one of those rare books that I return to over and over again. This is from my Amazon review:

Franz Polzer, a pitiable, wretched man, lives out his ordinary days in solitude and poverty ... the mundane tasks carving out his time and his life. Tortured by sick and demented hallucinations of his father and aunt, Polzer suffers an immense sense of self-loathing as well as a loathing of women and children. He also suffers endless nights in cold sweat, paralyzeI read the Maimed two years ago, and it's one of those rare books that I return to over and over again. This is from my Amazon review:

Franz Polzer, a pitiable, wretched man, lives out his ordinary days in solitude and poverty ... the mundane tasks carving out his time and his life. Tortured by sick and demented hallucinations of his father and aunt, Polzer suffers an immense sense of self-loathing as well as a loathing of women and children. He also suffers endless nights in cold sweat, paralyzed by the death grip of imaginary thieves and murderers, only to suffer the hours of his days in ceaseless toil, a slave, mercilessly at the beck and call of his obsessive compulsive disorder - everything must be counted and counted again ... and again.

Yes, Herr Polzer is a sad soul, desperately trying to live his life the way he wishes. But an easy mark, even his paranoia and compulsive behaviour cannot save him from the evil of others, who wish nothing more than to take advantage of any situation that might come along. And where one feels empathy for Polzer, there is nothing to feel but revulsion for the other characters in the story ... even his crippled childhood friend whose mind has been devoured by leprosy invokes no sense of pity.

This is a masterful piece of work. As we read the confessions of Polzer's twisted mind, Unger leaves more than enough to the imagination, and yet, without telling every gory detail, he still manages to set your flesh crawling. Polzer's entire identity is in turmoil throughout most of the book: his abusive childhood, his own sexual ambiguity, and his religious prejudices and superstitions fill every terror filled thought in his mind. I couldn't put this book down. In twenty-four hours, I read it cover to cover, on the edge of my seat. And even after finishing, the story continued to claw at my mind.

And kudos to the translator for finding it appropriate to include the final chapter, which was omitted in the original version. It in now way ruined the intentional ambiguous ending that the author desired. It only made me wonder more.

This book was put out by a small press in Prague, and their focus is on translations, specifically of Czech writers. Being a Kafka fan, I was instantly drawn to Hermann Ungar's writing style, which leans more towards the ambiguous. I like to wonder. I like to guess my way through a story. I don't like to be bludgeoned with character motivations, and Ungar is so subtle in this work, it's terrifying. Even the moments of exposition are beautifully done. I noticed as I was preparing to post that the book is out of print. If you can find a copy, I highly recommend it for anyone who likes macabre psychological stories.

The Maimed by Hermann Ungar wonderfully terrifying descent into paranoia, perversity and the power of abuse. Well-written and captivating from the opening sentence, this novel tells the depressing story of Franz Polzer. Ungar leads us with a perfect narrative through a tale that offers no lasting happiness for the tortured soul of Franz or those around him.Thematically, we are dealing with repression, abuse, madness, homosexuality and sadism.

Doesn't that sound like fun? Read on, brave ones.

Fran

The Maimed by Hermann Ungar wonderfully terrifying descent into paranoia, perversity and the power of abuse. Well-written and captivating from the opening sentence, this novel tells the depressing story of Franz Polzer. Ungar leads us with a perfect narrative through a tale that offers no lasting happiness for the tortured soul of Franz or those around him.Thematically, we are dealing with repression, abuse, madness, homosexuality and sadism.

Doesn't that sound like fun? Read on, brave ones.

Franz Polzer's life starts off badly and never quite recovers even though for a time, he learns to maintain a routine through his systematic organization and superstitions. After losing his mother and being repeatedly beaten at the hands of his father while his aunt held him down, Franz becomes a timid and withdrawn fellow fearing most everything and everyone. Then one night he sees his father leaving his aunt's room and believes that they are having an affair. Franz develops an intense aversion to her which is impressed upon his memory the part in her black hair contrasted with the whiteness of her scalp. This imagery sticks with him and shows up later in the book causing him paralyzing anxiety as he thinks of his landlady, Frau Porges:

As soon as the shadow of his aunt fell across the lighted door, Polzer had known that a woman's nakedness was something horrid. Even before seeing his aunt's shadow, he was tormented by the horrible thought that her naked body was not closed. He felt the same way in the presence of Frau Porges--like he was plunging endlessly into a terrible slit. Like open flesh, like the folds as the edge of a wound. In galleries, he never wanted to see the pictures and statues of naked women. He wanted to touch the body of a naked woman. He felt it was the locus of impurity and a disgusting smell. He only saw Frau Porges during the day, when she was fully clothed. Yet he was tormented by the thought of her fat, naked body.

The one thing that saves Franz from his miserable existence is his success in his studies and the meeting of Karl Fanta, a rich boy who attends the Gymnasium with him. Ungar describes a homosexual relationship between Karl and Franz even from the beginning, "Karl Fanta saw that Polzer was unhappy, and often both boys embraced, kissing each other while they cried." In 1923, this was quite a daring work and when Ungar submitted it to Kafka's publisher at the time, although liking it, thought he would be brought up on obscenity charges if he published it. Interestingly, the relationship between Franz and Karl is the only relationship, at least for Franz, where physical intimacy is an expression of love not a an act of compliance stemming from fear. Of course, in true Eastern European style, any happiness derived from his relationship with Karl is thwarted. Karl becomes ill and is sent away for treatment. Karl's father had agreed to pay Franz's way through his University studies, but once Karl is sick, Franz is forced to leave his studies and take a clerk position in a bank.

Due to his meager finances, he is forced to rent a room from Klara Porges, the fat and 'hairy' widow. He is frightened of her and repulsed by her. He consistently obsesses over her fat and the part in her black hair that reminds him of his aunt. Even though he avoids her, she manipulates him into spending more time with her as well as sleeping with her which turns out to be a humiliating and disgusting experience:

The breasts beneath her loose blouse were already touching his body. He lifted his hands to push her away, but his fingers only grasped th heavy mass of flesh.

That evening he was able to do it.

She had put out the light and was sleeping beside him. Her arm was around his shoulders.

That night Franz Polzer was seized by a great, incomprehensible and horrible thought.

It happened suddenly. The white line made by the part in her hair shimmered palely. Her body seemed soft and dark He longed for this body, and suddenly her remembered it was the body of his sister.

He knew the thought had no foundation. He had never had a sister. But the idea was too powerful and immediate for him to dispel it.

Franz Polzer rose and wrapped himself in his coat. He sat down at the table. It was as though he had slept with his sister. He remembered the nights at home when his father's heavy steps would creak over the rotten floorboards, and he would lie in bed, overcome by horror as he listened.

As his relationship with Frau Porges progresses, it becomes more humiliating. Karl, who is now married and has a teenage son, becomes prominent once more in Franz's life. Now a paraplegic and rotting away from some unknown disease, he has become a hostile and paranoid man He confides in only in Franz and the weight of this is unpleasant and intimidating for Franz. But because of his feelings and loyalty to Karl, Franz never questions or objects. He does what is asked of him. At one point, Karl becomes so verbally abusive to his wife and son that the son, also named Franz, confides in Polzer providing another sexually confusing moment:

Polzer pulled him close. He pressed the boy's head to his chest. Franz Fanta's question had touched him For a moment his hand lay on Franz's soft hair. He pulled quickly away struck by indistinct memories of the boy' father, of the work from the assignment book, of tears of distant affection.

"I'm sure you won't get sick," he said.

"It bothers us," said Franz, "me and my mother. Mother thinks you could help us."

Polzer held Franz Fanta tight. He felt his thin limbs against his body, felt the way Franz's chest rose and fell as he breathed.

The boy looked at Franz Polzer.

Polzer avoided his eyes. He felt the boy's heartbeat. It was a face he had seen before. Dora was right. Forgotten similarities filled Polzer with consternation and anguish.

Franz Fanta said:

"Do you love me, Polzer?"

Shocked, Polzer let go of the boy.

Ungar gives us such a repressed story of homosexuality that it's difficult for the reader to ever think that Franz will find happiness. An infusion of oppression and desperation leads us from page to page, hoping that relief is soon to be found. But each of the characters in this book is truly tragic. Polzer is the ultimate victim--abuse brought on by others and fueled by his own defense mechanisms. But the others are sorrowful victims of their own self-imposed cages grasping for quickest way to feel powerful in hopes of garnering even the smallest moment of happiness. Abuse begets abuse and it was never more true than in this twisted and tragic tale of Franz Polzer.

What adds to this tragedy, are the eerily exquisite drawings by Pavel Rut. It's as if Rut has given us pencil drawings of all the people who are from the same town as the figure in Edvard Munch's The Scream. These illustrations merely enhance the sorrowful aesthetic. Hermann Ungar should be better known than he is and thanks to Twisted Spoon Press for putting this novel back in print. I am for sure going to check out the Ungar's other book, Boys and Murderers.

Franz Polzer, at the centre of this book, is a seriously neurotic, messed up bank clerk in early 20th century Prague whose paranoia, insecurity, social incompetence, and assorted lack of social skills makes this an unsettling, disturbing, and utterly marvellous book. Polzer's ineptness means that he passively watches his school friend whom he idolises waste away from some unknown rot-the-body disease, allows himself to be coerced into a sexual relationship with his landlady, and attempts to contFranz Polzer, at the centre of this book, is a seriously neurotic, messed up bank clerk in early 20th century Prague whose paranoia, insecurity, social incompetence, and assorted lack of social skills makes this an unsettling, disturbing, and utterly marvellous book. Polzer's ineptness means that he passively watches his school friend whom he idolises waste away from some unknown rot-the-body disease, allows himself to be coerced into a sexual relationship with his landlady, and attempts to control his world by keeping all his possessions in order and preventing change. None of these is a successful tactic.

Ungar has successfully taken us into Polzer's distressed world, even more so by the almost flat writing style – which although flat is thoroughly engaging: a feat, given the generally dislikeable characters. It is a book that cries out for some sort of psychoanalytic analysis – and that should be resisted: the obviousness of such an interpretation means that there is almost certainly some other authorial intent here. The climax is violent and quite horrific, but unresolved: this edition includes a short fragment initially published elsewhere after deletion from the manuscript that explains who, but not why. All in all, thoroughly fabulous and totally unsettling.

Ungar, a German speaking Moravian, wrote, as far as I know, one other novel, one play, and one collection of short stories – this is the only on in English, so all power to the marvellous Twisted Spoon Press for publishing this (they have one of the finest small press lists there is)....more

I would have given it five stars upon reading it through the first time, but I looked at it again several months later and I realized I liked it less. I liked it for its novelty, a novel exploring, excruciatingly, the short life story and psychosis of the supremely emasculated man. Ungar's other works deal with similar characters, individuals who may be considered marginal in the wide spectrum of society, freakish possibly. I was impressed with Ungar's sometimes sympathetic, sometimes brutal hanI would have given it five stars upon reading it through the first time, but I looked at it again several months later and I realized I liked it less. I liked it for its novelty, a novel exploring, excruciatingly, the short life story and psychosis of the supremely emasculated man. Ungar's other works deal with similar characters, individuals who may be considered marginal in the wide spectrum of society, freakish possibly. I was impressed with Ungar's sometimes sympathetic, sometimes brutal handling of these personalities, sometimes morbid verging on the gothic, but then too clinical to be such. However upon a second read the novelty has worn off and the morbidity becomes more apparent, so his work does appear less objective than I remember, too gothic; Ungar seems at too much of a remove from the character he's created, so that some of his descriptions seem judgmental. Ungar believed the third-person narrative was the supreme form, or at least preferrable to the first-person narrative, in part because it is more difficult to create, or it was more difficult for him. Apparently Ungar's first draft was after all written in the first person, and indeed the first-person form was the one he was more comfortable with in general. I wish he had stuck with the first draft because I think his protaganist would have proven more genuine and sympathetic, instead of just pitiable. ...more

This book was written in 1923 and portrays a sordid, squalid sexual pit of a strange group of Avante Garde twenty somethings in Prague. The main character Franz Polzer is lonely, superstitious, in the same bank clerk job for many years; he has been damaged by the early loss of his mother, and sexually repressed by images of his brutal father and step-aunt who are having relations; and by the maid Milka, who teases him ‘intimately’. Franz rents a room from Klara Porges a senior widow. She learnsThis book was written in 1923 and portrays a sordid, squalid sexual pit of a strange group of Avante Garde twenty somethings in Prague. The main character Franz Polzer is lonely, superstitious, in the same bank clerk job for many years; he has been damaged by the early loss of his mother, and sexually repressed by images of his brutal father and step-aunt who are having relations; and by the maid Milka, who teases him ‘intimately’. Franz rents a room from Klara Porges a senior widow. She learns to beat him and they both seem to get a sexual kick out of things. His close university friend Karl (a slightly gay relationship?) develops a severe disease which causes smelly pustules on his extremities and ultimately Karl, Klara, a weird Rasputin-like assistant Sonntag share the apartment – they along with Karl’s son and wife indulge is a melting pot of money, sex and religion leading to - well read and find out. The author wrote later an additional “fragment” to the story (appearing as a separate section) explaining what happens and who did what.

This is a strange mix of “Bruges la Morte”, “Venus in Furs” and “Trilby” (which introduced ‘Svengali’). It is a dark, intriguing novel where motives are underlying sexual desires in a sinister way. I think the book is slightly before its time being pretty explicit in places but is still very much a literary work.

Some quotes:“She approached him, and laughed because she saw that he was afraid of her. Her hands grasped him. He did not move. Her hands fumbled at his buttons. Polzer trembled”

“Polzer had known that a woman’s nakedness was something sinister”

“Often, when he was lying on the floor, she would release him and tell him to stand up and finish with his own hand”

“Then he would not have this thought, this sinful, blasphemous thought that he was sleeping with the sister who never lived”

“Evil is not there for the evil. For they find nothing in it. Evil is there for the God-fearing. Only the God-fearing can suffer it. This is grace”

The weirdest yet most captivating story I've read so far this year. The plot is the story of Polzer, a wretched man who appears to suffer from OCD and other mental issues, living his mundane life in relative peace until a series of events begin to disturb his standarized way of life. Soon we get to know other important characters such as Polzer's landlady, Frau Porges, Polzer's childhood friend, Karl Fanta - now a cripple-, Fanta's family and a mysterious nurse that will contribute to the chaosThe weirdest yet most captivating story I've read so far this year. The plot is the story of Polzer, a wretched man who appears to suffer from OCD and other mental issues, living his mundane life in relative peace until a series of events begin to disturb his standarized way of life. Soon we get to know other important characters such as Polzer's landlady, Frau Porges, Polzer's childhood friend, Karl Fanta - now a cripple-, Fanta's family and a mysterious nurse that will contribute to the chaos that ensues when Polzer is forced to socialise with all of them at once. Later, we realise that all of the characters are repulsive and ultimately maimed (in a way).

If you care about issues of class, lust, greed, hate, fear and guilt and you don't mind a story with an atmosphere of paranoia and raw starkeness, this might be the book for you. In other words, I'd recommend this to anyone who enjoys Kafkaesque stories.

A truly fascinating and unique book. In "The Maimed" Ungar tells the story of Franz Polzer, a bizarre man who for 17 years has lived a meticulously-crafted life of routine as a bank employee. He wakes up at exactly the same time, goes to work, crunches his numbers, returns home, eats, and sleeps. Everything is done in exactly the same manner everyday. Yet Polzer is frightened with paranoid dreams at night, is taken to obsessively counting his possessions, and is incapable of most human interactiA truly fascinating and unique book. In "The Maimed" Ungar tells the story of Franz Polzer, a bizarre man who for 17 years has lived a meticulously-crafted life of routine as a bank employee. He wakes up at exactly the same time, goes to work, crunches his numbers, returns home, eats, and sleeps. Everything is done in exactly the same manner everyday. Yet Polzer is frightened with paranoid dreams at night, is taken to obsessively counting his possessions, and is incapable of most human interaction. His basic needs are taken care of by his widowed landlady. After 17 years of this routine life, Polzer's landlady begins to make sexual advances toward him, and Polzer, afraid that he will lose his room, begins to interact with her and others. Succumbing to sex that he both is attracted to and repulsed by, these actions stir up memories of his troubled childhood.

Soon Polzer's interactions with other people, and with his deformed and sick childhood friend who may slowly be descending into madness, shake the foundations of his carefully-crafted world and the reader is propelled along with him as we question the sanity of this most-peculiar protagonist as well as that of his maimed friend, and wonder about the seemingly-strange actions of the other people around him. To explain anything else would spoil the excitement of reading this book, which takes the reader on a frighteningly bizarre journey into chaos.

Wow, really an interesting novel. Quite unlike anything else. The book is many things: an interesting psychological portrayal of a stunted and troubled life, a study of paranoia and madness, and a page-turning book with a narrative filled with strange occurrences that become more strange as Polzer's order becomes chaos. Ungar's writing really makes it seem like the reader is entering the madness that envelops the book's characters.

The book was almost not published due to Ungar's concerns that it would be considered obscene. And it is startling explicit for a book written in the 1920s. It also stands as one of the few works from Ungar, who died very young.

A note about the text - periodically the book has illustrations that are dark and bizarre and quite interesting, and add to the overall design of the book which is quite wonderful. Also, the last chapter titled "fragment" was not originally published in the book, as Ungar preferred the more ambiguous ending that precedes it. This interesting fact is revealed in the "note on the text" section at the end of the book (which some non-font lovers skip).

Polzer has problems with OCD. Obsessive, compulsive disorder. He is always counting things. Afraid he is being robbed. His life full of routines.He lives with his oversexed landlady. After accepting a gift of clothing to wear to work as a bank clerk, his one and only job. He's offered a promotion but his fears intervene. I found this book hard to follow, probably due to the translation from German to English.by Hermann Unbartranslated by Mike Mitchell

A bizarre story of a man,named Franz Polzer.

Polzer has problems with OCD. Obsessive, compulsive disorder. He is always counting things. Afraid he is being robbed. His life full of routines.He lives with his oversexed landlady. After accepting a gift of clothing to wear to work as a bank clerk, his one and only job. He's offered a promotion but his fears intervene. I found this book hard to follow, probably due to the translation from German to English.Hermann Ungar the author was a German-speaking Jew living in Moravia. (1893-1929) Forgotten about after the war, until the French translation of the book surfaced. Hard to read and keep track, if you can get over the names of the characters, and can follow who is speaking at the time, you'll do fine. I got lost a few times.The ending is as bizarre as the characters. Out of the blue, I never expected it, even though it's hinted throughout the book. A great twist!I'd give this book four out of five stars. ****

I liked this book more than I thought I would. It has a story full of sick little twists, and a lot happens. Maybe it's a little slow in the beginning, but the pace speeds up at the end.

I'd agree with the other reviewer that it would have been better if it were in first-person. It would debase the reader who reads it as "I," and it would make the "I" more believable. As it is, the reader is divorced from the text and the whole book seems like a caricature. First person probably would make the mI liked this book more than I thought I would. It has a story full of sick little twists, and a lot happens. Maybe it's a little slow in the beginning, but the pace speeds up at the end.

I'd agree with the other reviewer that it would have been better if it were in first-person. It would debase the reader who reads it as "I," and it would make the "I" more believable. As it is, the reader is divorced from the text and the whole book seems like a caricature. First person probably would make the main character's neurosis and paranoia more real and the action more terrifying.

My "favorite" part of this book was the butcher. Wow! He's such a unique and sick, sick, sick character....more

Someone already amply reviewed this as being like Kafka but with more intense ODC and sexual perversions... but it goes even deeper than that, into the mind of a neurotic, alienated, phobic protagonist that most psychiatrists would kill for a few sessions with, as Ungar's descriptions reveal the exact train of thought that leads one otherwise unconnected paranoia to another. One point I greatly liked, that was driven home by this book, is that what you fear the most, what you focus on fearing thSomeone already amply reviewed this as being like Kafka but with more intense ODC and sexual perversions... but it goes even deeper than that, into the mind of a neurotic, alienated, phobic protagonist that most psychiatrists would kill for a few sessions with, as Ungar's descriptions reveal the exact train of thought that leads one otherwise unconnected paranoia to another. One point I greatly liked, that was driven home by this book, is that what you fear the most, what you focus on fearing the most, will ultimately come to fruition....more

Franz Polzer likes to relax by counting and re-counting his sheets of stationary. He has some serious social anxieties when he has a hole in his trousers. He's in love with an adolescent boy so he does his homework for him. He sleeps with his landlady so that he won't have to face the stress of moving.

But once the butcher starts spreading the word of God with his meat cleaver things get really weird.

It's like Kafka but with worse case of OCD and more sexual perversions.

This is a very sick, neurotic, and dark book, somewhat reminiscent of Kafka. It starts off in a familiar Bartleby kind of way, describing an alienating office environment that will be familiar to most people, and then becomes more and more perverse and twisted, touching on incest, pedophilia, misogyny, religious fanaticism, anti-semitism, mutilation and other cheery topics. Very well-written and oddly engrossing.

A very strange book, but the portrayal of the main character's thinking seems so realistic. Though not awfully graphic, it touches on all kinds of horrible situations the character goes through. His inability to take part in social situations, his outsiderness work, etc. are just as unsettleing as the physical, sexual, and psycholgical abuse.

A weird little book...not unpleasant, just odd. Main character is eccentric due to childhood issues, seems to surround himself with people as odd as he is. Trying, the whole novel to maintain a believable facade of normalcy. Twist at the end that I did not see coming.

I only wish Ungar had written more. This has the makings of a masterpiece of its type. Having lived in and travelled to Central and Eastern Europe for many years,I can especially appeciate the dark oddness of this story.

Chaos and misery. A comforting read for anyone with mild agoraphobic tendencies, mild o.c.d tendencies, social anxieties, or just plain "well adjusted adults" that have lost touch with the pleasure principle.

Hermann Ungar was a Bohemian writer (in the German language) and an officer in Czechoslovakia's Ministry of Foreign Affairs. His novels were influenced by expressionism and psychoanalysis. He was praised by Thomas Mann as a great writer.